Eye of the Beholder
by A'isha Ishtar
Summary: My life was beauty. As an artist and an optimist, I managed to find beauty in everything I encountered. He was no exception. He was beautiful to me; I just had to make him beautiful to himself. Jason/OC
1. Chapter 1

"You're not going."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not!"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" My dad blinked as he realized that I'd just kind of outsmarted him. He sat down at the table, sinking into his chair and rubbing his eyes. "Ah fuck, Genny..."

I grinned, wrapping my arms around him and kissing his cheek. "Thank you, Daddy!"

He groaned, stirring the cream into his coffee. "Look, Genny." He draped one arm over the back of his chair. "If you're going up to Camp Blood, at least take your brother and Jezebel up with ya."

"Daddyyyyyyyyyy!" I whined, sitting down beside him and hitting the table with my hand. I pouted, hoping to play up the sympathy card. "You never let me do _anything_ on my own! I'll be twenty-one in, like, two months! If I can handle drinking till I puke, I think I can handle camping out for a weekend on my own!" I crossed my arms. "Besides, Jezebel's not very intimidating, and if there _is_ a murderer up there, Freckles is just gonna annoy him and get both of us killed."

"Jez may not _look_ scary, but she'll fight tooth and nail for ya." My dad frowned. "And I _thought_ I told you to stop callin' your brother Freckles. That ain't his name."

"Yeah! No more callin' me Freckles, Gen." My little brother Dustin came into the kitchen, sliding on his sock feet. He looked a lot different from me, with his short, dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and a splash of freckles on each cheek. He looked a lot like my mom except for his eyes. Me? I had my dad's brown hair (which I'd took the liberty of putting one teal streak through) and blue eyes. I still looked a lot like my mom though - everyone always told me I had the same face and spoke in the same voice - quiet during serious or sad stuff, and really, really, _really_ loud when I was excited, happy, or caffeine high.

"What ever, Dusty." I reached over and whacked him on the head. "So you comin' to Camp Crystal Lake with me?"

He tilted his head, and was about to answer when Jezebel, our golden retriever dog, tackled him and knocked him over, licking his face. He started laughing, trying to get up and push her off. "Ha-ha-ha! W-Well, I dunno, Gen! Wh-What are we g-gonna do up there?"

I shrugged, twirling the dyed section of my hair. "I figured it'd give me some inspiration. You know I'm thinking about applying to that online art college. But this one's different - you know how most online art programs send you something and wanna see your reproduction of it?"

"Yeah." Dustin finally managed to get Jezebel off of him and had sat down in one of the chairs by the table, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. "What's different about the one you're lookin' at?"

"Well, they wanna see some original works. Like, something they didn't send to you and tell you to copy." I sat down and continued twirling my segment of aquamarine follicles. "I like nature, so I was thinking I might be able to head up to CCL and get some awesome images. Plus it'll be nice and peaceful. And hey - if the killer shows up, maybe he'll give me a cool pose I could draw!"

"I hear he wears a hockey mask over his face," Dustin commented, standing up and getting into the refrigerator. He stuck like his entire body in looking for something. "Legend says he took it from one of the kids he killed." He came back out with the family carton of orange juice, opened it, and started drinking directly from the box. "And one of the guys at school told me that nobody's ever seen his face and lived. Wouldn't it be cool if we were the first ones?"

"You're a weirdo." Once again I hit him on the head. "And would you stop that? You're getting your disgusting DNA in our juice! Other people gotta drink that besides you!"

"Dust, put the juice away," Dad grunted, taking another swig of his coffee.

"So are you coming or _not_?" I asked impatiently, putting my hands on my hips as I ventured over to the refrigerator door. "I gotta know 'cause we're leaving tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning?" My nine-year-old annoyance - eh-heh-heh, _brother_ - gave me a look of utter disbelief. "That's way too short notice, girlfriend!"

"Don't call my girlfriend, _boyfriend_!" I gave him a noogie, pulling him toward me and letting out a laugh that was what I called just short of evil. "Soooo... you coming or am I gonna have to give you a swirlie in your sleep again?"

"Gah! Anything but that! I'll come, I'll come!" He pushed me off. "You are _so_ lucky it's Spring Break... _and_ that I'm hoping we run into the killer."

I raised an eyebrow. "You _want_ to run into the guy who's killed, what, maybe fifty people?"

"I want an autograph! He's my hero! Carlos says he only kills _bad_ people."

I sat down and leaned my cheek against my hand as my elbow rested on the table. "And _bad_ classifies as... what, exactly?"

"People who smoke, drink, do drugs, or have premaritial sex." Dustin clapped happily. "Stick it to 'em, Camp Crystal Lake killer! Oh, and you're _sooo_ lucky we're not teenagers. Even if the teenagers aren't bad, he still kills them anyway because they're on his land."

"So... he might kill us because we're on his land?"

Dustin was quiet for a second, then shrugged. "Heck if I know."

"Weirdo." I adjusted my tank top and played with my signature skeleton key necklace. "I hope he's there just so I can tell him you smoke pot and see what he does."

"You wouldn't!"

"Nah... I _probably_ wouldn't. But be warned that if he tries to kill us, I _will_ use you as a human shield."

"... You're the worst big sister ever."

**WOW AM I ON A ROLL WITH FRIDAY THE 13TH STORIES.**

**I think it's because I've been watching every single movie... just finished Part 6: JASON LIVES. ^^ I was cheering for him the entire time, let me just tell you... :D**

**XD Anyway... thanks for reading and possibly reviewing, don't know when I'm going to update this one, haven't looked at it in a while... XD**

**BAI BAI. ^^**


	2. Chapter 2

"Gen, c'mon, would you slow down?" Dustin practically screamed from the backseat. "I think I'm gonna hurl!"

I shifted into four-wheel-drive and the bounce that followed as I headed over the rough terrain didn't affect me. I rolled my eyes at Dustin, ignoring that he couldn't see it. He was just tired and grumpy because he was on the phone all last night with Carlos talking about how awesome seeing the Camp Crystal Lake killer was going to be. And apparently, the killer's name was Jason something-or-other. I hadn't really been listening to his chatter that morning, as I was loading the van up. "What's wrong with you, huh? I thought boys your age like gross things. And there are fewer things more disgusting than your own puke."

From my rear-view, I could see him being tossed up as I went over another rock, probably pulverizing the poor stone. "You wanna clean it up, Gen?"

"... Good point, I guess." I eased my foot off the gas a little, slowing down from seventy to fifty-five. "I just like having no boundaries, now that we're outside city limits."

"Well, cool it off a little, Fast and Furious."

"I am, I am. Hey, what's Jez barkin' about back there?"

"Your maniacal driving."

My brother was the _only_ nine-year-old I knew who could properly use the word "maniacal" in a sentence. I just giggled. "Bat outta hell, Dusty, bat outta hell."

Finally I could see a gate in the distance. As I got closer, I could see the faded paint on the arch which read "Camp Crystal Lake". I turned around and gave Dustin a grin before barreling through the open gate. "We are _here_, baby! Camp Crystal Lake, CCL, Camp Blood, home of Jason Whatever-His-Last-Name-Is-If-He-Even-Has-One!"

"I think Carlos said it's Voorhees," Dustin answered matter-of-factly, leaning forward. "Jason Voorhees, the Camp Crystal Lake killer!"

"You sound so happy to be saying 'killer'," I mumbled, turning the wheel and scanning for a suitable place to park while simultaneously trying not to run into any cabins or Camp Crystal Lake killers. I did a double-take and shot my angry eyes at Dustin. "And where the hell is your seatbelt?"

"We're parking!"

"_Until the van has made a complete stop_! If you don't start listening to me, I will turn around, drive home, and you will never get to meet Jason van Hess!"

"_Voorhees_!" Dustin stuck his tongue out at me from the back. "It's Voorhees! Get it right, Gen! You wanna insult him?"

"Holy muffin-tops, Dusty, I _already_ insulted him by bringing _you_ within the walls of his camp!"

"Camps don't _have_ walls, dummy!"

I slammed on the brakes. "You wanna leave Crystal Lake empty-handed, boy?"

"No way, Gen! I want Jason's autograph!"

"Then you stop givin' me that lip or it's gonna be fat!"

"Just park, Gen!"

"Don't _sass_ me!"

"I'll stop sassing you when you park the car!"

I lifted off the brakes and yanked the clutch into reverse. "How many times we gotta go over this, Dusty?" I twisted in my seat, draping my arm over the headrest so I could see to back up. "Do _not _call my baby a car! Hellfire is a _van_, and you better be pretty damn grateful because she dragged your sorry ass all the way down here. Now, apologize to her."

"Gen-"

"Dustin. Q. Whysong. _Apologize. To. Hellfire_."

"Fine, fine." Dustin touched one of the cupholders near his seat. "Sorry, Hellfire."

"See, now _that's_ the kind of nice attitude you need. She forgives you."

"Good, your clunker of a van likes me. My life is super special awesome. Park and let's get this party rollin' on the river."

"It's not Camp Crystal River," I muttered, driving toward the trees. "Camp Crystal _Lake_, doofus."

"Don't call me a doofus, Pizzaface!"

"Shut the hell up! It was _one_ zit-"

"The size of a volcano and/or Hoboken!"

"-And it cleared up in time for senior pictures!"

"You could still see where Kim popped it for you."

I put my vehicle in park and leaned against the steering wheel, conjuring up an image of my blonde, brown-eyed best friend. "Aw hell, Dusty, I miss Kim. Why did she have to be pretty _and_ smart? If she was an idiot she wouldn't be studying in Paris."

"Yeah, and you wouldn't be getting fancy French perfume from her."

"Well, there's that perk. But I wanna talk to her."

"Hey," Dustin called, rolling off his seat and pushing his door open. "Did you know French perfume is actually toilet water?"

"_Dustin_!"

"It's the literal translation! Don't kill me!"

* * *

He watched from the shadows as the vehicle pulled in, tried to park, turned around, and at last settled, parking in front of the trees. His grip on the machete tightened as he saw the door to the van slide open. Why did more bad people insist on coming here? Out of the back part climbed a little boy, with dirty blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. He ran around to the back of the vehicle, shouting at someone else. "Gen! C'mon, hurry up, Gen!"

From the front of the car, a young woman climbed out. She had brownish hair, but one piece was a different color, and she was also dressed in shorts but instead of a T-shirt, she wore a white tank top. She ran around to where the boy was, smacked him on the head, and opened the trunk. "Give me two seconds, Dusty," she scolded, pulling a big red cooler from the trunk. "Okay, why don't we sit by the lake and have some lunch? Then we'll pick a cabin. And for God's sake, let poor Jezebel out, will you?"

"Okay, okay!" With that, the kid climbed into the trunk, then emerged soon after with a crate for carrying animals. When he opened it, a large yellow dog bounded out and knocked him to the ground before licking his face. "J-Jez, c'mon! Kn-Knock it off!"

"Okay!" The girl walked over and took the dog by its red collar, and pulled her off of the boy. She knelt down and began rubbing the animal's face, nuzzling her nose against the dog's muzzle. "Who's a good girl? Who's a good girl?"

The dog barked and then began panting.

"That's right, you!" She stood up, clipping a leash onto the dog's collar. "And good girls _don't_ attack little brothers, do they? I thought not."

"Come _on_, Gen!" the boy cried, tugging on the girl's shirt. "When are we going to go looking for Jason? I don't wanna wait another second!"

"Dusty, we're gonna be up here for a whole week." The girl was dragging the cooler along while simultaneously leading the dog over to the lake. "There'll be plenty of time for you to talk to Jason and find out... whatever it is you wanna find out."

"How he's lived so long, if his mom lives nearby, what his favorite color is, his favorite way of killing bad people-"

"Dusty, listen to me. We. Are. Going. To. Be. Here. For. A. Week. I have no doubt we'll run into the guy some time or another. Now get my sketchbook, will you? I forgot it. It's in the back."

"No."

"Come on, I want to draw the lake."

"_Fine_."

He just watched the two for a while. They sat at the edge of the lake, eating whatever they'd brought. Once the girl had finished she began to draw, glancing up at the lake every so often. Once the boy had finished, he proceeded to throw his shirt at the girl and dive into the lake... yes, she yelled at him for that.

He glanced down at his weapon, and lowered it a bit. It was just the two of them and their dog, nobody else. The girl looked like an adult, and the kid was just... well, a kid. Harmless unless he got his hands on sugar. And neither of them seemed to be doing anything... bad. The girl had an interest in the camp, and the boy had an interest in...

_Me?_ he thought, genuinely confused. No one had ever admired him before. The only person he knew liked him was his mother - and family _had_ to like you no matter what.

... Maybe, just maybe... they weren't bad. Maybe he wouldn't have to kill them.


End file.
